This past week I was asked about The Good Enough Pastor twice in separate, unrelated contexts. Funny, while others had taken notice of my blog, I’d nearly forgotten.
I’d like to pass it off as being busy, adapting to a new pastoral position, and the expected adjustment period that any life-change brings. I just haven’t created my new normal.
Then I looked at my site. My last entry was over five months ago.
That feels like a long adjustment stage.
A premise I hold to (and challenge those I counsel) is, “We cannot not communicate.” Everything we do and say conveys a message. As does what we choose not to say.
And, what we avoid doing.
Applying this to my lapse in blogging, the question arose, “What does my absence of writing say? What’s the story behind that?”
The obvious: I’m busy focusing on pastoral tasks. It’s a time- and energy-consuming calling.
But also superficial.
As I explore more deeply, I acknowledge it has more to do with my anxiety.
Where do I come off with the audacity to think I have anything meaningful to say? Who do I think I am to presume to have original thoughts? Who wants to read what I have to offer?
In short, I’m not good enough.
Hmm. The irony.
Anxiety is pretty sneaky.
In Mark 6, there’s the story of Jesus walking on the water. His disciples are in the boat, struggling to navigate through waves and wind. When the guys see Jesus, they scream out in fear.
“It’s a ghost!”
It’s interesting how distorted their perception is at this point. A ghost is menacing, scary, evil. About as far from the character of Jesus as one can get.
Anxiety does this to us. It’s quite convincing, too.
We become stuck, paralyzed, when in the clutches of anxiety. Inactivity and avoidance are logical strategies to placate our apprehensions.
I recognize it’s not a good idea to diagnose myself, but I’m pretty sure this is why I haven’t posted since November.
At the risk of this going the way of New Year’s resolutions, my goal is to step back into The Good Enough Pastor, and start writing again.